Wrapped in gigglitude

My brother thinks he is very funny. Every year for Christmas, he manages to package something very cleverly or send a message that he thinks is appropriate. He is usually wrong.

I once received a small pocket knife from him. It was wrapped very carefully in a tube that was about five inches in diameter (I wonder if that's a lot... hmmm) and six feet long (I know that is.). I once received a pair of pants that had three holes in it and was missing one-third of one leg. Two years ago, he gave me a plastic shoe horn, on which was a decal with the Auburn logo and an explanation that this was to be used to remove the Warplainstigers foot from Georgia's ass the following fall.

He really is a card.

This year, I am reminded that Christmas is not only about giving. It's also about receiving. I will be receiving me a belly-full-'o'-laughs when he opens one of his gifts this year.

Here is the actual gift itself, a book that I happen to know he wants.


Here is the package as it will appear before he opens it.


Luckily for those of us on the correct side of the rivalry, I thought to purchase an AJC before leaving Athens on the morning of December 4, 2005. I thought that one particular page from that paper would make good "padding" for the gift. The result, when he opens it, will be something like this:


So what if they beat us. Little bastards still aren't champs.